Decisions
by matsukanishi09
Summary: No matter how many coins you throw into the fountain or the number of fingers you cross, if it's not meant to be, it simply won't happen." Hermione realizes that she couldn't blame others for his death. CedHerm.


**Heya! My first CedricHermione fiction! I am a supporter of this ship and now, I finally had the opportunity to write a fiction about it! ^^**

**NOTE:**

**Underlined**** – parts excerpted from Goblet of Fire, chapter 35: Veritaserum. I considered placing it on my fiction just to have that canon feel. But after the underlined part lay a different story. ^^**

**Disclaimer: I disclaim. ^^**

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_A pair of hands seized him roughly and turned him over._

"_Harry! Harry!"_

_He opened his eyes._

_He was looking up at the starry sky, and Albus Dumbledore was__crouched over him. the dark shadows of a crowd of people pressed in around them, pushing nearer; Harry felt the ground beneath his head reverberating with their footsteps._

_He had come back to the edge of the maze. He could see the stands rising above him, the shapes of people moving in them, the stars above._

_Harry let go of the cup, but he clutched Cedric to him more tightly. He raised his free hand and seized Dumbledore's wrist, while Dumbledore's face swam in and out of focus._

"_He's back," Harry whispered. "He's back. Voldemort."_

"_What's going on? What's happened?"_

_The face of Cornelius Fudge appeared upside down over Harry; it looked white, appalled._

"_My God—Diggory!" it whispered. "Dumbledore—he's dead!"_

_The words were repeated, the shadowy figures pressing in on them gasped it to those around them…and then others shouted it—screeched it—into the night—"He's dead!" "He's dead!" "Cedric Diggory! Dead!"_

"_Harry, let go of him," he heard Fudge's voice say, and he felt fingers trying to pry him from Cedric's limp body, but Harry wouldn't let him go. Then Dumbledore's face, which was still blurred and misted, came closer._

"_Harry, you can't help him now. It's over. Let go."_

"_He wanted me to bring him back," Harry muttered—it seemed important to explain this. "He wanted me to bring him back to his parents…"_

"_That's right, Harry…just let go now…"_

_Dumbledore bent down, and with extraordinary strength for a man so old and thin, raised Harry from the ground and set him on his feet. Harry swayed. His head was pounding. His injured leg would no longer support his weight._

_Everything was blurry. Harry scanned the throng of people left on the bleachers and caught sight of a familiar silhouette. He squinted to see her face better._

"_Hermione…"_

_His tongue tasted dry, his lips chapped and bruised. He could see that Hermione was buzzing her way towards him, yet he could not identify her amidst the shadowy figures. Before he knew it, a pair of strong yet dainty arms wrapped itself around him._

"_Oh, Harry!"_

_He heard sobs. He removed himself from her grip and saw the tears on her eyes. He wiped them away, not knowing what else is there for him to do. Without knowing it, his eyes watered and his tears flowed._

"_I'm sorry!" Harry buried his head on her shoulder. "I couldn't save him! He-He died because of me! If I was not acting modest on that maze…if-if I was competitive enough…if I was quick with my wand…if…if…"_

"_Sshh…" Hermione tightened her grip on him whilst tears streamed down her face._

"_I don't blame you."_

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It had been a week.

Hermione sat beside Harry on the Hospital Wing. The tracks of her tears blended with her pale skin, her mind jammed about that night's turn of events. It had been hard for her the moment she heard from the Minister's lips that Cedric Diggory had died. She abruptly stood, cried, and left the bleachers, not minding the protests coming from Ron, Bill and Mrs. Weasley. Her purpose was to see and touch his cold face one last time, yet when she saw Harry's defeated figure amongst the throng of strangers, she came to him.

He cried to her. He told her that he was sorry. He told her that he blames himself for what had happened.

To tell the truth, she was tempted; tempted to put the blame on Harry. She desperately wanted to tell him that he was right, that Cedric had died because of him…that she had lost the sole person she had ever loved because of him.

But she didn't. She let him cry on her shoulder and held him there. She told him that she did not blame him.

She wrapped her hand around his, silently watching him breathe in his sleep. Madam Pomfrey treated his burns the moment she brought his defeated form inside the Hospital Wing. She stayed beside him every night and watched him sleep.

Harry looked peaceful. His face only had a few scratches left; the bleeding on his forehead was gone. Hermione brushed some stray locks aside and traced a finger on his scar with a sad smile. Sighing, she withdrew her palm and sat on the edge of his bed.

"Did you know that I love him?" Hermione whispered. "We met at the library, a week after the Second Task."

Hermione smiled at the memory of Cedric being pounded by her copy of Hogwarts: A History. Unintentionally, she wrapped her hand around Harry's and continued.

"He told me about that article Skeeter wrote about me, the one that got me the Bubotuber Pus." She snorted. "He asked me if it were true; I whacked him on the head and told him to sod off."

A chuckle escaped her lips and her vision got blurry.

"But he didn't. He provided me company that night and we talked for hours. He told me about Quidditch—and that was the first time I found the sport as an interesting topic in conversations!—and I told him about books." A tear fell onto her black robes.

"We meet at the library more frequent after that night. He told me more personal things like Cho and I told him about Ron and Krum. He never asked about you, or anything regarding the tournament. He played fair, I'd say.

"In just three days, I felt something weird. Like I just ate a treacle tart for a whole day…and that's saying something! I always looked forward to our meetings and he even said that my smile has become more radiant as days passed by. I blushed at his comments and I began to notice the little things that make him Cedric.

"I noticed that he scratches his ear every time he is frustrated, that he flirts with you first before asking a favor, that he pinches his nose whenever Snape passed by…that…that…"

Hermione squeezed Harry's hand as tears incessantly streamed down her face. She shouldn't be like this. She should be strong, for both Cedric and Harry's sake. She wiped the tears with her robes; nevertheless, it fell.

"I…I never told him…" she uttered between her sobs and hiccups. "He-He told me that he loved me and what did I do? I told him nothing!" Hermione placed her free hand on her face.

"He-He said that he understood…that he would wait for my answer," Harry's eyes opened and he stared at her. "And he asked me to wait for him in return."

"But he never returned. It was my entire fault! I ruined everything that we had! I was selfish, foolish to not follow my heart that very moment…" Hermione's voice faded into inaudible whispers.

Her back was facing him, that was why she had not yet known that he was already awake and listening. A sorrowful chuckle replaced her sobs and a phantom of a smile graced her lips.

"My first thought when you said that you blame yourself for his death was to say that I did, too. I was tempted to give in to your sentiments, to release the frustration I felt about his death by accusing you of it…"

"Why didn't you?" Harry's baritone voice caught her attention and her bloodshot eyes met his green ones. "Why didn't you do it?"

Hermione's shocked expression turned sullen and Harry knew that she was thinking. He held her hand more tightly, afraid that she would let go and blame him for Cedric's death.

Hermione's eyes refocused and the misty look it bore had vanished. Her sullen face became soft and a small, yet genuine, smile graced her swollen lips. Her gaze met the flowers on Harry's bedside table and it changed its color from dark blue to a vivid shade of yellow.

"It's because it's wrong." Hermione's voice became clear. "It's wrong for me to blame you for not giving me the opportunity to start something good with him."

Hermione shifted her gaze and fixed it on Harry, the smile, still, on her face. Harry eyed her in curiosity and silently pleaded for her to expound what she had just said.

"Our lives are determined by the choices we make, Harry. I chose not to answer him and I lost him forever. He chose to share victory with you, thus, he…died." Hermione cleared her throat. "Do not blame yourself for the consequences of one's decisions."

Hermione let go of his hand and placed both of hers on his face. Her eyes were glossy once more and tears began to fall again. Harry placed a kiss on her forehead and let her rest on his chest, not knowing how to speak.

"I know in my heart that if Cedric weren't there with you, I could've lost you." Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, "And I wouldn't be able to move on when that happens."

"Why, Hermione?" Harry breathed into her hair.

Hermione sat up and looked at Harry's questioning eyes.

"It's because I already have a bond with you. A bond that exceeds that of friends, of siblings, of lovers. You, Ron and I had been together through thick and thin—and to have either you or Ron dead would kill me, too.

"My friendship with Cedric only lasted a few months. I love him, yes; however, it is easy to escape since we never had a relationship…our bond wasn't that strong. Do you get it, Harry?"

Harry nodded and hugged her closer. They stayed that way in silence, mourning for the death of a friend and a loved one. Harry stroked her hair and felt her tears on his chest; unable to bear it any longer, he asked.

"Do you regret it?"

Hermione shifted yet remained silent for a couple of minutes. Harry tightened his hold and massaged her arms—with that, she answered.

"Yes." Hermione muttered. "It's just, I realized that…no matter how many coins you throw into a fountain or the number of fingers you cross…"

Hermione faced him and smiled dully.

"…if it's not meant to be," she picked a flower from the vase and it wilted immediately.

"It simply won't happen."

Harry positioned her against his chest again and let her cry openly. She wailed and hiccupped in his arms—eventually waking Madam Pomfrey in the middle of the night. Her cries echoed throughout the deserted halls of the Hospital Wing and provided sound amidst the cold silence that circled the castle. When Hermione finally fell asleep, Harry was already stiff and sore…yet, he did not complain.

"Thank you." Harry kissed the top of her head. "Thank you for everything."

And for the first time after Cedric's death, Harry smiled.

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**It's up to you, readers, to determine whether this is a future HarryHermione fiction as well. ^^**

**I really don't understand why I love writing drama fictions these days. Haha.**

**Hope you liked it! Tell me your opinions. ^^**


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